


Oat Coffee & Steamed Milk

by queen_raine



Series: Honey and Nutmeg [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Barista Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester Live Together, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, College AU, Communication, Dean Winchester Has Mental Health Issues, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean Winchester Loves Chick-Flick Moments, Dean Winchester is Loved, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Grad School AU, Graduate Student Dean Winchester, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Openly Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attack, Student Dean Winchester, Twenty-Something Castiel (Supernatural), Twenty-Something Dean Winchester, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27442642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_raine/pseuds/queen_raine
Summary: Dean is going to grad school for mental health counseling, and ironically, his own mental health goes down the drain. Neither he nor his boyfriend Cas could have ever imagined the toll that getting a Master's degree would take on him. Luckily, the decision to move into together while Dean finishes up works out pretty well for both of them. Even this can't prevent Dean from losing it every now again, though, when his anxiety bubbles over and all of those nasty insecurities find their way to the surface. There's nothing quite like a panicky Dean Winchester, but fortunately, there's no one else quite like Cas.See, Cas has ways of getting through to his boyfriend in ways no one else can. Oh, and steamed milk with espresso? Always the right way to go.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Honey and Nutmeg [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004904
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	Oat Coffee & Steamed Milk

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who’s back! It’s me, Raine, hello. Surprise! This might turn into more than the little bean it is, let me know what you think. Until then... enjoy, always keep fighting, and take care xx

“Fuck. Fuck! Fucking... fucking hell!”

“Uh… Dean? You uh… you okay in there?” Cas pokes his head into their home office, but only far enough to look around, scan the room, take stock. He knows better than to enter and disrupt him at this time of day. That’s a recipe for disaster. 

The rueful and only slightly manic chuckle he gets from Dean in response makes Cas question whether or not he’s imagining his heart forgetting how to beat. No? One of those days. Okay. Got it. 

“Hey, lovey? It seems like maybe it’s a good time for a short break, hm?” Mustering up every ounce of bravery he can and overcoming the sudden tightness in his chest, he steps into the forbidden chamber. Delivering the delicately brewed honey latte onto his boyfriend’s desk, he sets the mug down within Dean’s eyesight as a peace offering of sorts and an explanation as to why he’s invading his personal space on a Friday night. Cas knew school freaking sucked, but man, he could have never anticipated just how much of a toll it’d take on Dean’s mental state. And in turn, how it would affect his own. Even convincing Dean to take a two-minute coffee break was precious to him and something simple he could do to take care of his overworked grad student. 

“Ha, funny. Very funny.” No turn of the head, no acknowledgment of his favorite hand-brewed drink, and Cas was pretty darn sure Dean hadn’t eaten a proper meal yet today. “You know as well as I do that’s not possible. And I’d really freaking appreciate not having to feel guilty for not spending time with you on top of all this other shit, dude.” 

Although it wasn’t the first time, nor will it be the last time, he’d taken his stress out on Cas, it also wasn’t the first time Cas had to take it. It had become a… routine of sorts. And of course, Cas can be a saint with Dean when no one else can. No one else has the sheer patience and willpower, but you see, they don’t have the same superpower that Cas does. 

“Love, no. You know I would absolutely never send you on some bullshit guilt trip. Right?” His knees pop as he kneels beside the creaky desk chair, and his hand brushes the plush blanket he placed around Dean’s shoulders earlier. Five hours earlier, to be exact, when he sat down to write this damned treatment plan for this damned class for this damned school counseling program. The mere shake of Dean’s head as an answer is more or less expected, and it’s all part of the drill. “Hey. At least give your eyes a break for me. And listen, if you don’t try this lovely, warm, sweet, made-with-love drink before all the whipped cream flattens out, I’m going to be personally offended.” 

“Damn you.” The sharp crack of the likely overheated laptop closing is like music to Cas’s ears. “You know I can’t resist you and your freaking oat coffee.”

Cas bursts into a chuckle that makes him throw his head back just a bit. He can’t resist. “Oat coffee, Dean? Really? Haven’t I taught you better than this?”

He gets an eye roll for that one. “You don’t think I’m that much of an ignorant fool, do you? Of course, you have, you oat milk loving freak.” He smirks and playfully shoves at Cas’s shoulder before picking up the mug he knows Cas coordinated with the drink, something about the aesthetic of the espresso roast? Whatever that means. The first sip is heavenly, as expected, and he doesn’t even try to hold back the moan of simple pleasure from the warmth, the sweetness, and the… cinnamon? Nutmeg? Whatever it is, it’s basically a hug in a cup. 

“Now, what do you think about a break? I can make you some dinner, we can take an hour away from the homework, and you can give that overworked mind of yours a well-deserved break.” He reaches out to run a hand through Dean’s unruly hair. He’s clearly been tugging at it in a feeble attempt to let out some of his nerves and crippling stress. 

It takes everything Dean has not to bat Cas’s hand away. His irrational brain tells him to laugh in his face, push him away, and scream until he can’t anymore. The tiny rational part left advises against that. “You know I can’t, Castiel. Just… I’ll come grab something, okay? In a few minutes. If you want to help, just bring me something in here. Cook whatever. That’s all I can compromise on for now.” 

Cas attempts to hold back a sigh but mostly fails. “Dean, I need you to take a break. You need one. When’s the paper due?”

“It’s not a paper, Cas,” he huffs in annoyance, shrugging the fleece throw from his stiff shoulders and rolling his neck a few times. “And it’s due in a few days, but I have to get it done now. Like… right now.”

“But let’s think about that rationally,” he suggests with a deep breath. “If it’s not due for a few days, wouldn’t your brain and eyes appreciate having the night to rest? You’re the one who said it wastes more time and energy in the long run if you’re too tired to even comprehend the words on the screen, and—”

“And what, Castiel? You’re telling me I’m not doing good enough or something? Like I’m not trying hard enough to use my time to get shit done? What the actual hell, dude. Who’s the one writing this? You? Oh no, that’s right, it’s not.” Dean pushes his laptop back open with enough force to spill some coffee onto the desk with the sheer force put into the motion. 

“You know I’m not. You know that.” Fighting to stay calm and to keep Dean’s free will in-tact, Cas grips his shoulder to try and ground him. “But what I do understand is that you’re feeling a lot of pressure right now, and I know you’re beating yourself up over this assignment and the week you’ve had. I understand that you think you need to get this all done perfectly tonight, but you have time. As someone who’s seen you like this and knows when you could use a breather, I’m asking you to save what you’re working on, and come out to the kitchen with me to pick out something to eat.”

“See, but you don’t. You simply do not understand. And quite frankly can’t understand. As much as you think you get it, Cas, it just pisses me off the more you think you can ever get close to empathizing with me, alright?” He huffs out a shaky breath and immediately squeezes his eyes shut. Grabbing the edge of the desk painfully in his hands, he bellows a continuous stream of grievances down at the wooden surface. “It’s not fucking fair. I’m fucking done. I can’t handle this. I can’t handle this anymore! Fuck, fuck, fuck… it’s so loud, Cas. Just… just stop talking, just shut the fuck up. It’s too loud.”

Cas waits patiently from where he kneels beside him, moving into a sitting position to give his poor knees a break. He never removes his hand from Dean’s shoulder, grounding both himself and his boyfriend. They’ve talked about this and what to do when it gets bad, and he’s not willing to budge and give up on him. Easier said than done, obviously, but it’s waiting it out from here. It’s letting him get it out of his system. It’s not leaving, not giving up, and being steady. That’s what Dean is craving, after all. At least one solid presence through the storm and the straight up chaos. A break from the craziness, the noise. The noise from school, his fieldwork, the world around him… the noise in his own head. 

So, Cas inhales. Exhales. Waits. It’s all he can do. 

“Are you going to say something?! Anything at all? Or just fucking sit there and stare at me?” Dean’s widened eyes fit perfectly with the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the tell tale signs of being near the finish of a bout of anxiety. “Of course, you’re not going to say anything because I’m the crazy one, huh? I’m the one making a big deal, and I’m the crazy one, and yet again, I’m the one at fault who’s ruining our night, of course I am! Would I ever expect anything different… no. Never.” He pushes his chair back from the desk and spins around to stand up. Seconds later, he whips his sweater off over his head and throws it down at the floor like it weighs ten pounds. “God, it’s so hot in here. Why’s it always gotta be so damn hot in here, Castiel?!” 

Taking a couple of deep breaths, Cas approaches Dean and picks the sweater up from the floor, taking his time in draping it over the back of the accent chair in the corner of the room. He looks over at Dean and walks back to him, trying to catch his green eyes with his own. “You’re okay, Dean. Okay? You’re not screwing anything up, and I think you’re doing great with all of this. Truly. I’m proud of what you’re doing, and I want to help you feel better so you can tackle the rest of this. But I can’t do anything if we can’t talk about it and make a game plan.” 

Dean rubs a harsh hand over his face a few times, a tell-tale sign of his emotions overcoming him, and Cas knows that means he’s crashing down from his panic. Neither of them are surprised by the tears that are always bound to follow the adrenaline rush, the release that comes after the powering down of fight or flight mode. But it’s fine. They’ve been here many times, and they’ll be here again. It’s fine because Cas has a superpower, remember? “I don’t want to make a game plan, Cas. I just wanna sleep. I want to eat, I want to shower, I want to sleep. But I can’t.” And Cas knows what it means now when Dean says, “I can’t”. And yeah, sometimes it might mean he quite literally doesn’t have the time because let’s face it, grad school is demanding, and sacrifices are necessary on occasion. This deep-seated exhaustion goes far beyond the hours in the day and the endless stream of deadlines. 

“I can help you with all of that, lovey. Every bit of it. Can you let me help you?” He reaches out his hand to Dean as a peace offering of sorts, though he’s not trying to make peace for having wronged him, but rather offering some calm to Dean’s racing mind and panicked thoughts, giving him a chance to slow down, to breathe. 

Dean places his now clammy hand into Cas’s steady and warm one and sniffles. Just a little. He laces their fingers, shrugs a bit, and keeps his eyes trained at the hardwood beneath them. He wouldn’t be able to meet Cas’s eyes if he tried. Not quite yet, but they’ll get there. 

“Let’s make a plan, yeah? We’ll make a list, we’ll figure out a game plan, and we’ll get it all done.” He strokes the back of Dean’s hand with his thumb and continues to take long, measured breaths for Dean’s sake, and after a minute of just being, Cas leads Dean over to the desk. He picks up the latte with his free hand, gives it to his boyfriend, and he grabs Dean’s little “to-do” pad with his favorite name-engraved pen from the desk. Giving the tired man a gentle tug toward the office door, he decides on the first task for their agenda. It’s quite simple, actually, for a step one. 

“Hm... love? How about pie for dinner?”


End file.
